


The Connection

by JackieSBlake7



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-21
Updated: 2017-06-21
Packaged: 2018-11-17 00:56:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11264661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JackieSBlake7/pseuds/JackieSBlake7
Summary: Commissioner Sleer is puzzled by her dreams





	The Connection

The faces and voices haunted her dreams – but on waking they left no more than echoes and ghosts, and the feeling that they had been as real as any actual memory, and that she had recognised them and knew what they meant to her. She was not certain how many of them there were – they appeared in different groupings. Sometimes the backgrounds were clearer than others.

She #had# to know the cause and significance – but some part of her conscious mind suspected she would not like the answer. Why?

Commissioner Sleer mentioned the matter to her doctor on one of her visits - she had persistent headaches and regular medication to deal with them.  
‘No need to worry about it – a side effect of the drugs. If they persist we will change the prescription next time.’ Somehow, Sleer sensed, "we" had a different sense to the normal surgery-visit usage... and that she had better be careful on future visits. ‘Given the current economic situation you do not wish to be retired from the administration on medical grounds...’ For some reason the middling ranks of the generalist administration were seen by those outside its structures as a refuge for the less able or go-getting. In practice there were few opportunities to rise to the upper ranks, whatever the claims.  
‘No. Probably,’ she said with a smile to mask her thoughts, ‘my subconscious is telling me I have been in my current post long enough and it is time to find a new one with new faces to look at.’ Why did she feel she was dissembling?  
The doctor shrugged. ‘That may well be the right or just the best answer. And you will need my recommendations if you do decide to follow that path.’

Why, she wondered, was there a continuing economic crisis, given that "the authorities" constantly promoted the successes of the Federated Planets and claimed that the statements of its equivalents elsewhere were hyped? Everybody knew - but only occasionally hinted at - that everything was shabbier than it had been ... since before her headaches had started. #When# had her headaches begun - that there was a time in her adult life when she had been free of them she knew for certain... but the onset was not in her memory.  
Resolve the cause of her headaches and she would understand her dreams. That she knew, somehow. She would investigate what she could.

‘What is it Sleer?’ her present lover said as she looked at the job adverts.  
Sleer looked up at him. ‘A conversation at the doctor’s as to whether the dreams meant a I should consider a change of work environment.’ She smiled ‘The idea appealed. I thought a change of jobs and working companions might change the dreams: I have been in my post a while.’ Her job was, she suddenly realised, mind-numbingly boring, rather than merely ordinarily repetitive... why? And why could she not remember key facts mentioned on her CV?  
‘And if the dreams return six months later?’  
‘Then I rethink... merely looking for something new may work.’ For a split second she almost remembered something. ‘Nothing,’ she said to her lover’s concern. ‘For now I am considering the possibilities rather than going for the first option offered.’ She was not certain quite what she wanted - only that she would have to plan it, and avoid another, similar posting, which was, from what she heard, likely if care were not taken. Why was this so?  
‘I shall ask around - not everything is advertised.’  
‘Thank you.’  
She was not quite certain, she realised, #what# he did.

****

The history book she was reading, though fairly new, was already getting shabby - and provided little further information on the subject, with the same gaps and elisions as in the other books she had read - and likewise those covering galactic geography and politics. A few years ago there had been the Federation - one of the most powerful entities in the galaxy, or at least this sector. Now there was the Federated Planets, smaller and with fewer resources, lagging behind its equivalents elsewhere - that much #was# evident, whatever the official claims, and there was no indication of why or how this had happened. Nor was there much information on the other regional entities and lesser groupings, and some of the "disruptive influences" which supposedly prevented the FP from reaching its full potential had been active in the Federation period, and were now operating outside the FP’s jurisdiction without causing problems.  
There were occasional mentions of persons called Servalan and Travis, from the old days ... who seemed to have been among the less pleasant figures of the Federation, and there had been others like them... possibly why there had been problems then. She could sympathise with some of the then rebels’ concerns... but there was "a strangeness" attached to exploring that idea.

‘Who is Servalan?’ she asked her lover.  
‘Pardon? Where did you come across the name?’ She could not read his expression.  
‘I caught the name when going along the corridors.’ Rather than mention it in connection with her research. ‘I thought I had come across it before.’  
A moment’s thought: remembering – or what? ‘Servalan was Supreme Commander several years ago, and became President, but died in an accident.’ Said with an air of finality that brooked no further questioning.  
What was odd, she realised later was the lack of surprise at her not recognising someone as important as Servalan had obviously been.

****

She had a new job - and the headaches had, for the moment, almost departed. The dreams, however, occasionally returned - and were, somehow, connected to what was going on in the news. The persons now had voices, which she recognised, and the contexts were, on occasion, familiar.  
Her new doctor, during a routine check-up made a passing mention of the note about her dreams in her records.  
‘I think it was... shall we say the job and I had spent sufficient time together.’ What she had said in other contexts, which had been accepted.  
The doctor nodded. ‘Do you still get them?’  
‘Occasionally - probably some variant on the usual four vaguely memorable segments from three otherwise forgotten viscast shows stuck together, something I did or encountered today resembles a previous event, or providing a better ending to some story... and have you never thought someone you just saw looked like someone you knew twenty years ago and had forgotten till now?’ She knew better than to admit the full extent of her dreams.  
‘Yes... we will leave the medication as it is for now.’

Sleer was continuing her researches, but proceeding carefully. If asked she referred to the seemingly endless repeats on the entertainments channels, and the possibilities of her next job or promotion. Others occasionally asked her for information.  
She now had a better understanding of the way the FP actually worked than most - and could see the flaws with the system. The administrative structure was too static and inflexible, not recruiting enough people, attempting to control populations using a crude grading system rather than use their dynamism to advance economically. Elsewhere in the galaxy such alternative systems seemed to work - from what little she could gather. She wished to be a reformer in some manner - but, given the current clampdown, would have to be careful how she proceeded.  
With some care she could do at least some her research without triggering a headache or the distracting threat of one.

****

‘Go to the observation deck,’ the purser said. ‘You will get a glimpse of Space Command in a few minutes.’  
With a reluctance that seemed surprising, Sleer went as directed. Her lover had arranged this luxury cruise to celebrate their latest promotions… and she had had a sense of foreboding from the start.  
There was no reason why she should have anything against the Space Princess, but she did. Nothing had gone wrong with the ship yet.

She *knew* she had seen Space Command before - and it had not looked like this.  
‘My impression is that it was bigger,’ she admitted to the crewmember providing information.  
‘In space there is little to provide perspective - and sometimes they show from a particular angle or what such things will look like when completed, rather than now.’  
And, the thought came to her, present an image, an illusion of what Space Command is, and the real thing would become undetectable, even invisible and thus safe.

That night, for the first time, she had faces, voices and contexts together in her dreams, knew how they were all linked, but as usual things faded as she woke.  
Was this going to be her future? A life that was comfortable apart from the dreams and the headaches and a growing sense that something in her mind was fractured?  
She had seen Space Command before, and could not remember it directly, and there were other gaps in her memory… had she been tampered with? There were vague hints that such things happened – to criminals and others, who could thus be reintegrated into society… and possibly for other reasons. That might explain the headaches and the drugs – to keep her from her past – but who had done it, and why?  
So were the people of her dreams from her past life?  
She had been able to ignore the gradually increasing headache no longer.  
Which, she was just able to think, might prove the point.

****

‘Who are Roj Blake and Kerr Avon?’ she asked her lover, having come across passing references.  
‘The newscasts pick minor characters and promote them.’ Said almost dismissively. ‘They operate outside the Federated Planets.’  
From what had been said in the news, the two were more important than that: but she knew she should not press the subject too far.  
She had a growing suspicion that he was manipulating her or her career in some manner - and she did not care to not be in control. To ask him directly would not be appropriate. Ambition she could understand, and working as a team she could accept - but she would be nobody’s puppet.

Servalan, Sleer deduced from what little personal detail was given in the records as she had continued her pursuits, was a rather unpleasant person, even if she *had* led the defence against the alien invasion, and seemed to have had a certain, attractive, flamboyance. The hints suggested something more than the ruthlessness necessary to get to the top. And there was something missing from the story of the defence against the invasion – it was not clear who had raised the alarm.  
Kerr Avon, Roj Blake and the people associated with them were, from the limited information available on them, far more attractive persons than Servalan. Despite seemingly being opposed to the authoritarian structures that were, apparently, a necessary part of government they were of some importance. *Where* they now operated was unclear: there was mention of them in association with the Federation, but they now seemed to be independent of the Federated Planets, contributing to reform and exploration. Somewhere in the shadows of her memory she knew more about them. Were they connected to the words and images – and, now, sometimes echoes of phrases – that haunted her on occasion on waking? She still had no idea as to what tampering had been done to her, or why.

****

‘Planning your next job already?’  
‘Sometimes things have to be planned long in advance.’ As she had done… somewhen. Another thought from the unknown past. ‘Some approaches are more effective than others. And if you listen to the newscasts, there is much argument in the higher ranks of the administration.’ Sleer knew she was fishing. ‘I wish to be on the way up not the way down.’  
‘You are part of it – and as you know what is reported and what actually happens can be quite different. Sometimes the disagreements are just for show – or to see which way public opinion is going.’  
An element of truth in the statement – though Sleer suspected that there were deeper divisions within the administration than suggested.

She listened more carefully to what was said on the viscasts, the gossip around her, looking for hints.  
Something was being planned – rarely discussed. There were also fragments of news, overheard gossip which indicated that *something* was going on within the administration.  
The dreams became more vivid – the detail and length of the sequences increasing.  
Blake and Avon were more in the news, now, and Sleer began hearing the name Servalan regularly. The name meant *something* to her – but what?  
The headaches started occurring again – she had not realised they had stopped. This time there was no obvious link to her dreams or activities – and, she realised, after some of them there were blank spells. She knew not to mention this new phenomenon.

Then one day there was “an incident” – that was the only way to describe it. As she was going to her work there were muttered words behind her, followed by a scuffle, in which she was pushed. Sleer #knew# that it was deliberate. She arrived at her office still feeling disturbed, and when asked what the problem was, stated merely that she had been bumped into and almost knocked over. There was more passing sympathy than she would have expected, and then the incident was ignored.  
She was slightly surprised at the increased police presence along the route she normally took for the next few days, when there had been no recent mention of the disruptive elements who seemingly regularly plagued the Federated Planets.

Sleer, uncertain as to what she should do, went for a walk.  
*Once I would have acted decisively.*  
Where had that thought come from? The barriers to her past must be becoming more fluid. Then she had a disquieting thought: would she like what she found?  
She still had no idea why she had been blocked, or who by, or how the two aspects were connected. That the recent attempted damage to her was connected to her past was something she was certain of.  
Should she escape: no, the correct term was strategic withdrawal. But – where to, and how, and what reason would she give? Could aspects be included in the career plan she was developing?  
*She had been good at planning, even though at times her plans had been thwarted by others’ failings or plotting to their own advantage.*  
Sleer did have one, slight, advantage in the present situation: she had not revealed she was aware that she had been tampered with, and had some access to whatever knowledge and skills she had had before. She realised that concealing her intentions and knowledge came naturally to her… so must have been a significant part of her past.  
She became conscious of someone looking at her, returned the gaze. She saw puzzlement: not a threat.  
‘What is it?’ Sleer asked.  
‘You remind me someone.’  
‘Who?’ Sleer was curious. ‘I don’t think we have met – I would have been pleased to remember it.’ She realised she was flirting with this stranger… but she *was* happy in her relationship… wasn’t she? Occasionally she #did# consider operating independently of her lover.  
‘No, we never met directly: someone seen… and she’s dead. So they said.’  
‘I am very much alive, and have had no reason to fake my own death,’ Sleer said. Why had she come up with *that* idea? ‘Perhaps, I am an unknown relative of this person with a more than passing resemblance.’  
Said as a joke, and taken as such.  
The man studied her face. Sleer found the experience interesting, and slightly unnerving. ‘Perhaps…’ He shook his head. ‘As you are obviously not her, sorry for disturbing you.’ Then he was gone.

Back home she considered the latest bit of the jigsaw.  
She bore a passing resemblance to someone well known – and seemingly dead. Possibly this explained the earlier incident in which she had been jostled. She *had* to discover the truth, or face more incidents, which might become dangerous.  
Why had she suddenly thought of the name Servalan?  
As she went for the medicaments, she realised that she was having her first headache for weeks. Were the headaches an attempt to keep her from her past, or an unpleasant by-product of whatever treatment she had been given?  
Before the pain became all-distracting she realised that this was a significant idea – if she could retain it.

****

There were more hints that the administration of the Federated Planets was going to change direction, from a policy of consolidation to a more expansive one. There were references to exerting its authority in all geographical areas under its control – and, a couple of times, the term Federation was treated as synonymous with Federated Planets. “Dissident and disruptive elements within the Federated Planets," it was said, would be dealt with severely.  
After one such reference she asked her lover whether he could provide details.  
‘There are always criminals and others who wish to cause disruption, and those who wish to have areas where regulation is lightly imposed. And some of them attempt to organise the general public without explaining the full consequences of the course of action they propose.’  
That seemed possible, or at least partially true – if only Sleer didn’t have the feeling that something was being omitted.  
‘Why was it allowed to happen?’ A question she would have asked in the old days, she knew.  
‘There are many things to be dealt with – including those who might become enemies.’  
Sleer wanted to ask about Avon and Blake again – there had been mention of them in various contexts – but found she could not: reference to the Federation as such was also blocked.  
‘They should perhaps be clearer about what we can or should do so people accept things,’ she came out with eventually. *She* was better at practicalities than theory – knew she always had been.  
‘When the time is right, they will do.’ Her lover smiled. ‘There is another vacancy coming up – will suit you exactly.’  
‘I will consider it – what it says on paper and what actually happens can be two different things.’ She did not need to remember her past to know *that*.

She had been almost coerced into taking this post. It *was* prestigious, with good prospects for advancement, well paid, and suited her skills – but it occupied much of her time, and there were aspects of the organisation of this section of the Federated Planets’ administration in general that she could not understand. She knew she was not paranoid, but she had the feeling that some aspects of her life were being organised for her without her consent, and without her actual best interests being considered. It had something to do with what she had been, and the wider situation in the Federated Planets.

In a rare quiet period she decided to reassess the situation. As Sleer-without-an-alternative past she had a good life – and, with some planning, she might be able to move to something more interesting and suited to her tastes. If she suppressed her suspicions and ignored the dreams she might be happy with the way her life was developing. *But* there was more to her life and her past – and possibly her future – than seemed to be obvious.  
*Who* had she been, *why* was her past significant, and how did her dreams-or-memories - as distinct from the usual nonsense that everybody had – fit into things? How were the Federation and the Federated Planets and her past related? Why was she prevented from discussing the Federation, and persons such as Servalan, Avon and Blake? Was there a way to getting through the barriers in her mind?  
So, *why* had she been treated to forget her past? To keep her hidden for some purpose, to protect her from others, to protect others from what she had been, or what? The options she had selected, she knew, somehow, were the most plausible… and she was getting another headache, her first in months.

****

As she went through the medicine cabinet she realised that there were none of her tablets left – but why? There weren’t even any ordinary painkillers – though she could not recall her lover having ever expressed the need for any, so an oversight rather than malice… possibly.  
Were the headaches the barrier to her past, or a side-effect of the barrier imposed on her?  
It seemed to be possible to distance herself from the pain by thinking of other things.  
The dream memories began swirling through her mind... things began to link up, then faded.  
She would have to prepare for when the barriers did break down.  
The door opened – her lover. Why had she been expecting someone else?

****

Eventually, Sleer *knew* there would have to be a full reckoning for the over-emphasis on producing what had little economic benefit - but those in power spoke in terms of re-establishing historic sources of materials rather than developing new ones. This was another area where people in general were discouraged from discussion. It *should* be possible to encourage people to make better use of resources and not go in for excessive consumption.  
‘You’re not becoming a Simplistic,’ her boss said at one point, in response to a comment she had made.  
‘Pardon?’ Sleer asked, looking up from the documents she was studying.  
‘The group who think we should all live as simply as possible, and not enjoy ourselves.’  
Sleer recalled the group - one of various such - who called themselves something different.  
‘No: I was collating information for a report. Life *is* to be enjoyed to its fullest.’ As she had tried to do in the past that was obscured to her, she knew. ‘But one should know what such people are discussing so that their points can be countered – or even possibly modified and adopted, so that they have nothing to complain about. Sometimes it is even appropriate to do something along the lines suggested.’ So long as they paid their taxes, and did their work and allotted tasks, did it really matter how they amused themselves? It was not politic to say so though. ‘And it is probably sensible to know when to pace resources out, even if just for show.’  
Her boss considered the comments. ‘Perhaps. It might be useful to produce reports on the groups and their plans – as they have gone to the effort of getting all the information together we might as well make use of it. Unofficially at present and for internal use,’ he added.  
‘Security would know much about them,’ Sleer replied.  
‘They’re mainly interested in the security of their own jobs,’ her boss retorted. ‘They need to justify their existences – which means making such groups appear more dangerous than they are and keeping them going,’ Her boss smiled at her reaction. ‘Don’t seem so shocked: it is true, and just because the populace is discouraged from discussing such things, doesn’t mean some of us don’t.’  
She had not been shocked – but had been amused at this use of what she knew was an old tactic.

Sleer wondered, as she became more involved in the discussions that intermittently followed, whether she was being used... but she *approved* of the reforms being mooted. She knew without being told not to discuss the matter with her lover – who had always argued the case for thing remaining as they were and firm control. The hint of threat that she was aware of made it essential that she not draw attention to the fact that she was aware that she had a past that did not belong to the present.

****

Sleer looked at the till now forgotten packet of dream suppressants. When had she last had a headache, or the faces appear in her dreams? Had the whole thing been merely an aberration that had resolved itself? The people in her dreams had seemed so real… And yet there *were* the incongruities, which she still had not resolved.  
As she tried to work out the sequence of events, she realised that there might be an alternative explanation. Her problems had, now she considered the matter, stopped at about the time she had become involved with the reform discussions. Perhaps in the area of her life presently excluded to her memory she had been a reformer, and now that she was involved in the same work she did not need to be reminded of what she had done.  
Had she, perhaps, been one of the mysterious rebels, who seemingly had existed in the Federation, but had been replaced by persons less glamorous and more dangerous in the Federated Planets?  
She knew that the rediscovery of the tablets meant that she would restart her search. Someone had made a mistaken

****

She switched on the viscast news.  
Sleer had realised that viewers were being misdirected. the main part of the news was being filled with insignificant topics: the supposed successes of the administration, minor indiscretions of so-called celebrities puffed out of all proportion, perpetual nonsense presented in a distracting manner. Sometimes she wondered whether anybody would notice if the main part of the news were replaced with something from several years before. Anything that *was* important was discussed in the last few minutes – including the various problems of the Federated Planets and what happened elsewhere – as if such things were trivia.  
It was no more than a twenty second clip, over before she could fully register what she was seeing. She recognised the faces – two of the people from her dreams. Active outside the Federated Planets.  
Sleer was in a state of shock. If some part of her dreams were based on a reality that occurred elsewhere, then the others who appeared in them must have existed – possibly still did – but *where*?  
For a moment she had contact with her blocked past, knew who she was and who the people in her dreams were. Then everything returned to the shadows. She *did* have an alternative past to the one on her CV, and during her dreams she *was* able to remember some parts of her real past. Had she been a reformer or the reverse… she had been pragmatic. *That* she knew. She now held a position of responsibility and trust – so she could not have been too terrible in her previous life. She *had* been half-recognised that time – perhaps she was a now unwanted body double… She *knew* that what had been done to her was not at her own request: she still had no idea who *was* responsible, or why.

There were many possibilities... she would have to consider the situation, and ensure that she did not reveal anything prematurely. Including to her lover.  
Eventually she slept: to her surprise and disappointment, none of the familiar faces appeared in her dreams.

****

There were increasing signs of strain within the administration of the Federated Planets – and seeming stability outside it. Sleer was not quite certain whether the populations of the Federated Planets were being given suppressant drugs – as the rumours went – or whether they were quiet because they were genuinely more interested in their own private activities and “not being imposed upon” than in society as a whole. Even those in the middling business and professional grades – those among whom she moved on a social basis – did not seem overly concerned with the obvious problems or what those at the top stated were such. Their attitude was in part to ignore the “squabblings” among those in charge, except when they could gain personal advantage from it. The occasional shortages and disruptions that were now occurring were treated as petty inconveniences, which would be resolved, not as symptoms of wider economic problems. That the infighting at the top might lead to disruption that would affect them was seemingly not considered.

****

There were now constant statements about ensuring an orderly society and "dealing with" those who wished to increase lawlessness. Sleer suspected, *knew*, that this meant that things were not going well. Perhaps they should try different methods, make contact with Avon and Blake and other such figures associated with reform – wherever they actually were – and see what they could suggest. Sleer knew, however, that to merely suggest some reform, however superficial, would bring a severe reprimand on herself, if not worse.  
That had been the issue before, and Blake and Avon had somehow been involved in it.  
How did she know *that*? What part had *she* played in what had gone on? Could she now develop the argument and present it subtly to her superiors? *Whoever*, *whatever* she had been before, she could see the need for reform now. Perhaps *because* she had this double viewpoint, the obscured past and the known present she could understand more readily what was necessary.

There were several "incidents" involving those in the top ranks of the administration: from the hints given Sleer suspected that there was much infighting occurring. She continued to have echoes of her previous life and knew that she had once been involved in such things. She wished that some of the more useful things from her old life would come through – so she would know how to organise things to her greatest advantage. The number of items in the viscasts and electronic newspapers which appeared to carry secondary messages which only those for whom they were intended would understand, seemed to increase.  
Sleer knew she was basing her impression on information she had possessed directly before, not becoming a spotter of non-existent conspiracies, such as existed in the viscasts and discussion groups.  
Perhaps she should consider what the conspiracies referred to – sometimes they indicated what was wrong with the system.

Her lover and his associates were now regularly discussing matters and promoting concepts of "strong and firm government" and control, cracking down on dissent – rather than make use of it.  
Sleer deduced she would have to leave her current situation – and that she would be hindered by the remaining blocks on her memory. Whatever she enjoyed, of her life, it was all an illusion. She was a tool in the politics of the Federated Planets, to be awakened when appropriate – and she *would* be used. Unless someone rendered her non-operational first of course.  
Were there others like her – possibly under the control of one or other of the political factions?  
Perhaps Avon, Servalan and Blake and the others could help resolve the matter – if she could but find and make contact with them. It would require much gathering of information and planning, especially as she had to ensure that she did not alert those who sought control over her, or were following their own agendas which would disrupt what she did. She would have only one chance – and failure would probably mean the imposition of blocks which it would be more difficult, or even impossible, to break, and the destruction of what she was presently attempting to achieve.  
She arranged a "fact-finding mission" which would enable her to further her intentions. Her lover had blustered - but eventually accepted the situation, and that her experience gained would be useful.

****

The territories of the former Federation outside the FP were, she discovered, larger than she expected, or admitted by the FP authorities, and the activities of those who had once been in opposition but who were now running or coordinating the administration of that organisation were diverse. They were now involved in something that worked – and where there was less disruption than in the FP. She made discrete enquiries about Avon and Blake.

Eventually she was brought into contact with a group whom she recognised without knowing them – the people of her dreams. She could not understand their reactions… until her memories were, finally, unblocked and the course of events traced.  
She had been Servalan, once, then through a power struggle involving the planet Geddon had lost the Presidency and been forced to take on the position of her body double Commissioner Sleer. When the opposition movement had taken over the Federation’s administration on Earth, they had allowed leading figures in the former administration who did not wish to adapt to retreat elsewhere, which had led to the establishment of what became the Federated Planets. She had been caught up in the process: recognised, she had been deliberately mindblocked so she could be used as a tool when required – but due to circumstances the process had been flawed: or it had started to fade as she had not been made use of.

****

She now understood who she had been, and why she had been made what she was.  
Who was she – Servalan, Commissioner Sleer, or Sleer of the Federated Planets, seeking to reform that organisation? Which did she want to be?  
Nobody’s pawn – that was one thing that she was certain of.  
She understood why Blake, Avon and their people were reluctant to help her, even as they accepted that she was not the Servalan they had known.  
The Federation as it had been could not be revived, whatever the beliefs to the contrary of those who had set up the Federated Planets, and who had manipulated her – there were neither the resources nor the necessary support. The successors of the Federation as they now were - somewhat smaller bodies - could, if the right things were done, stabilise, and might well achieve significant positive support from the populations within their domains. She wanted power, and was practical... and from what she had discovered while attempting to discover her past of what the sometime rebels were doing she now supported some of their policies.

‘What do #you# want?’ Avon asked one day when they were alone together.  
She had to think. ‘On one level I would almost prefer to be the person I came to be while they were hiding me.’  
‘And forget all that you did before in the old days as Servalan?’  
‘I was happy after a fashion – though I did enjoy some of the aspects of finding myself.’ Servalan knew even as she said it, that even if some means *were* found to achieve her wish, some traces of her past would keep returning to her - possibly in a less comprehensible, more disruptive, fashion. ‘Strange to say – I am also attracted to the reformer I sought to become… remodelling the Federated Planets. Perhaps… it was a challenge – where else could I go, having reached the Presidency of the Federation before?’  
‘Imagination our only limit?’ Avon said with a smile.  
‘That is what we share - enjoying seeing where an idea can go, playing the chess game of life...’  
‘And treat the two impostors victory and defeat the same.’  
A quote from what Servalan could remember. ‘And you play a different chess game with Blake.’  
‘You could say that.’ The ghost of a smile. ‘The games never end – only the players change.’ Avon nodded to himself. ‘There are … possibilities.’  
Servalan-Sleer considered her thoughts and words. ‘I enjoyed being in office before, and, piecing together all the fragments of information as Sleer. I can be practical or realist – if it works I will take it on. I want the Federation as a whole to re-emerge: and if it keeps the populations across the worlds quiet if they have the illusion and some of the practicalities of self-government – and they then realise some of the impracticalities, then so be it.’  
‘The former rebels now in charge tend to resent it when the same charges of stalling are levelled against them as they raised against their predecessors.’ Avon said with some amusement. ‘You will help us, or work in parallel?’  
‘It will depend upon the offer. As Servalan I could have negotiated something from a position of strength – as Sleer transformed, I might have been able to support you part way. As I am now, I do not know.’  
‘Our experts and computers have analysed your research – and consider you have some ability in that direction. You, as Sleer, have a certain rank within the Federated Planets, and, as you now are, with your duality, with some help from us, you can manipulate your role and, eventually, the FP’s policies.’  
As presented the idea appealed. She could have the power she wanted - as Servalan or in her new persona.  
‘And if you then face "my" army?’  
‘First get your army - and decide what you wish to achieve. The art of management, as has been said, is delegation.’

The group said they would have to re-impose the blocks in part, for the short term: eventually she was persuaded. The intent was for her to rise within the FP administration and change things subtly from within, with the full range of her memories being restored eventually.  
Once upon a time she would not have been content with such a situation: but the odds on the gamble for the whole were too much for the possibility of success otherwise.

****

Sleer returned from her mission and considered her options. Those she had met had wished to aid and contribute to her further rise within the administration of the Federated Planets – partly because they too wished to restore the former Federation. They considered the best way to do so was to resolve some of the issues that were causing disruption among the population of the Federated Planets as it now was - and their logic and plans made sense, and aligned with her opinions, and which she was willing to promote. That removing those who were more reactionary in this respect would allow more opportunities for persons such as herself to rise was a bonus.  
Strangely, since her trip, her headaches had stopped - but so had the vivid dreams: there were mere echoes, variations on a theme and "what everybody else had." There was, however, the occasional sensation of "things on the edge of memory" – eventually, #something# would surface.  
She was now actively supporting those who wished to reform the Federated Planets so it would be more economically viable and have more popular support: the plans she had were considered interesting and were being variously developed. That her lover was more strongly for the maintaining of firm official control was to be regretted. they were moving in different directions, and Sleer was now thinking of her future options.

Her lover-for-now had arranged for some persons to meet her in an official capacity, without giving details.  
The visitors to her office were slightly nervous - and their story was bizarre.  
‘It is true I do seem to bear a passing physical resemblance to the Supreme Commander and President Servalan - but I assure you I am not her, and I have not been mindblocked,’ Sleer insisted, having considered the images provided. She ignored the sensation of something lurking in her memory: no doubt it would surface later. ‘Out of curiosity – what would you do with Servalan should you find her?’ Information must be acquired – and she would manipulate the situation to her advantage.  
‘Return her to office - and utilise her undoubted strengths restore the Federated Planets to the status and extent of the Federation.’  
‘How would that be done?’  
‘Servalan #was# Supreme Commander as well as President – and would be able to unite the various military structures within the territories of the former Federation.’  
‘And if I were her and did so, and you took on the administration of the Federation, as, I presume is your intent,’ their reactions showing it was, ‘what would you do when you face my army?’ There was an almost forgotten memory associated with the phrase.  
‘Why would you do that?’  
It was obvious things were not going to their plans.  
‘You wish to make me your puppet – do you think Servalan, or any other ruler for that matter, would trust you not to attempt to do so again, with someone else, even should I obey your every whim?’  
She had the feeling that she was drawing upon knowledge she did not consciously remember.  
‘We wish to help you remember, and to take on your rightful role.’  
‘And why should I believe you, with your ridiculous claims?’ Sleer laughed, despite the echoes of memories going through her mind. ‘I am rising through the administration – and I am associated with the reformers. Would Servalan have done so?’ From what she knew Servalan would have made use of the situation to her own ends  
‘She was pragmatic...’  
‘That may well be so – but #I am not her.#’  
‘But…’ The speaker faded into uncertainty  
‘#If# mindblocking and imposition of new personalities exists – other than for certain medical and judicial functions - #you# have to prove that it was not done to you - or that you have not been misled by those of conspiratorial intent.’ Sleer was amused by their expressions.  
‘The information provided…’  
‘…Will be investigated #very# thoroughly.’ She rose. ‘I see no point in continuing this discussion.’  
She decided that she would have this group of people investigated thoroughly as well – #they# were likely to be the disruptive influences, rather than the so-called rebels.

When the group had gone, her lover turned to her: for once he was furious.  
‘Do you have any idea how much work was involved in setting this meeting up - and rather than cooperate with them and exploit what they believe is the truth you threaten to investigate them. Such nonsense will stop here. And your associations with the reformers - whom you think you can exploit.’  
‘Why #should# I associate with these people and their nonsensical suggestions?’ There was a shadow of a memory - but it was gone. ‘The reformers support me, and have practical plans, or wish to make use of what I can provide.’ Sleer was slightly reluctant to carry out what she had decided to do should he behave like this.  
‘Unless you stop #now# you will be given a medical examination, and be declared unfit to hold administrative office – and then what will you do?’  
Sleer came to a decision. ‘The evidence is that you were manipulating me to your own ends: some of the jobs you arranged for me to do...’ She had been keeping records and making discrete contacts. ‘I can play the same game as you.’  
‘Why shouldn’t I benefit from your advancing? You could not have arranged such activities yourself, and you wanted to rise.’  
It was evident he wished to be the power behind the throne. She could accept that – but knew it would not be to her advantage – until or unless she could organise things otherwise.  
‘You are not aware of all that I have arranged.’  
‘You are not the only person who can be promoted.’  
‘Then I suggest you associate with such persons.’ It was obvious he had not expected this response. She understood the sadness she felt – a familiar situation was changing, and there had been some good times. ‘When you have done so we can meet up and see on what grounds we can cooperate.’  
‘We will see what happens.’  
Her lover went to take the documents presented by the visitors, but Sleer stopped him.  
‘These were meant for me or to influence me, so I will have to investigate them thoroughly.’

 

When she read the documents she found them peculiarly disturbing.  
The style was almost exactly and uncannily hers and almost familiar – but arguing the case for strong control, rather than the course she now promoted.  
That night she had a dream in which she #was# Servalan – and taking control of the situation… and some of it made sense when she woke.

****

Sleer was presented with plans for further reform, discussed them with others, including the "Simplistics" - who now accepted the name as a generic description, even if with some ill grace. While some #were# promoting austerity regardless, others wished to avoid unnecessary excess and promote localism.  
She was also developing contacts with her equivalents in the Federation and some of the other groupings within the galaxy. Some argued for ever closer union between the various components - but, as one wit said, this would probably actually happen slightly before the Andromeda galaxy merged with their own, and a whole new load of discussions would have to be undertaken with their equivalents there.  
Those associated with the "Servalan figurehead" movement were being dispersed – and her former lover was having little success in arranging a new puppet. There was more support for what she was promoting.  
Her dreams from Servalan’s point of view continued, and she was able to make use of some of the ideas arising.

Then the leaders of the Federated Planets got in touch, with proposals for coordination. She agreed to meet up – and she realised the Servalan figurehead group had been right – after a fashion. There was no way she could cooperate with them: they were not capable of adapting – she was.

Outwardly she was still Sleer rising through the administration, associated with reform and those seeking to negotiate for cooperation between the various regional entities in the galaxy. Inwardly, she accepted that she was both Sleer-the-reformer and Servalan who had commanded the Federation… and the two aspects of her personality could be combined to a considerable extent.  
It was the divergence between the two aspects that kept her from being at rest – but provided her with the flair to achieve the goals desired: power for herself and a stable system in operation.

****

She was no longer quite certain who she was - only that some aspects of her personality were fluid, and she wished to remain in power.

Blake had requested a private meeting – Sleer-Servalan was curious as to what he wanted.  
He was peculiarly nervous.  
‘The negotiations and co-ordination arrangements are going well,’ Servalan-Sleer said, partly to set him at ease. Perhaps if the Federation as it had been had followed present policies she would have remained  
Servalan, enjoying her flamboyance, and Blake and other rebels would have had roles developing the Federation and promoting changes rather than attacking its administration… but where would Travis have fitted in?  
‘Yes. The thing is… we have both been mindblocked, had a second personality imposed, and ... had the original re-awakened… but the other remains. We understand the sense of duality, but nobody else we are associated with does…’  
Sleer-Servalan could fully understand what Blake was feeling. She went to put a hand on his shoulder. ‘There are others like us... but let us come to an understanding of ourselves first. And then we see what we can do.’ She smiled.  
‘That… might be interesting.’ Blake, almost imperceptibly, relaxed, as did Servalan herself. ‘No need for the masks when we are together...do you have the dreams of the other-self, sometimes not know which of you is dreaming?’  
‘Yes…’ She gently embraced Blake. ‘Between us, what can we not do?’ His arms went round her – and they were comfortable together. ‘For now I feel whole again,’ she admitted.  
‘So do I,’ Blake replied. His expression mirrored hers. ‘Shall we see what we can do together?’  
‘Imagination our only limit.’


End file.
